


In another universe

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, More to come as updated, No mermaids tho I haven’t planned any of that aftually, and just concepts, its just all aus, its my content I choose the body swap fic, its rife with my hc’s, paulkins aus based off other musicals, this is a dumping zone for AU’s, witches n spies n mermaids idk that shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21986236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: A fancy title but really it’s just all Paulkins AU’s
Relationships: Emma Perkins & Henry Hidgens, Emma Perkins/ Paul Matthews
Comments: 23
Kudos: 52





	1. Body swap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bodyswap fic bc I’m making th content I want you can consider it part of the quarantine canon & yhats Why Hatchetfield has a PEIP HQ

Paul woke up with a more nauseas feeling than usual in his gut. He was staring up at the roof, listening to Emma breathing besides him. 

Emma’s clock read 4am. He sighed, shutting his eyes again. He should just go back to bed. But then hold on a moment - Why was Emma’s clock on his side of the bed? Or was he on her side of the bed? 

He rolled onto his side, getting some chills as he felt their sheets on his bare skin. “Em,” he grunted, his voice lazy from sleep. He gave her a small push to try and wake her up. He couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t on his side of the bed, but they must’ve swapped somehow in their sleep. 

But as his palm pressed up against her back he quickly withdrew. He recognised Emma, and that was not her. His heart skipped a beat.

Whoever it was had a much broader back than his little barista. And his fingers recognised the texture of satin immediately. Emma did not wear satin pyjamas, half the time she just fell asleep in whatever shirt she had been wearing that day. But she didn’t own any satin shirts either! 

He sat bolt upright, trying to scramble out of bed, away from whoever that was. This had to be a nightmare.

When he was standing on his own two feet he noticed he was looking back down at himself. That was his body in his pyjamas with his face, snuggled up into the blankets which he was now stealing since Paul had jumped out of bed. 

What? What? What? His mind was racing with a million questions a minute, there was no way he was going back to bed now. Unless he was still asleep.  
As he was coming too though, he could feel his senses stretching out through his body, and something was wrong. 

He felt heavier, closer to the floor somehow. He risked a look down at himself, half expecting to see his legs had been cut off.  
It was Emma.  
But his whole world seemed to do a somersault, and so did his stomach. He was disorientated, he wasn’t familiar with getting up on Emma’s side of the bed, and so by the time he had found the door to the ensuite there was already vomit on his shirt. He clung onto the sink, surprised he could actually reach it when he felt so tiny all of a sudden. 

By the time he was finished vomiting and was stumbling back up against the shower, his body was standing in the door.  
Paul? Emma? Emma Paul? Well, he hoped Emma was in his body if he was in hers. 

“What the fuck,” his body spattered. Yep. Definitely Emma. She raised a finger to point at him, not even turning her head to look into the mirror. “What the fuck, what the fuck?” 

“Emma? Is it you?” Paul asked.

“Uh, I sure as shit hope so!” Emma was shaking her head so hard she had to close her eyes. “Am I? Or am I Paul and I’m just having a mental breakdown?”

“No, no, I’m Paul. I mean, I hope!” Now he was paranoid too. “Do you think you’re Emma?” 

She nodded, and so Paul nodded too.  
“Okay, so this is weird.” He held out his hands to tell her not to panic. 

“Yeah! Really fucking weird, genius! Why is my heart going so fucking fast!?” She was holding onto both sides of the doorframe. 

“Because that’s my heart,” he guessed. “That’s probably why I’m not freaking out so much! I got your heart, and I just threw up, so I’m feeling a little better already.” 

Emma winced, “that never lasts long.” 

Did Paul’s face always get so red like that when he was stressed? He could literally see the colour of his cheeks through the darkness. 

“I know what we should do,” Paul declared. “Let’s go down to PEIP HQ, they’re shut right now but they have that emergency room open don’t they? They’ll figure this out, they’re the- I don’t remember. What does it stand for?” Emma’s memory was shit. 

“Paranormal extraterrestrial inter- what does it matter! We’ve got a plan? Then let’s go! Let’s go, can we? I can’t stand this!” She seemed to miscalculate how far she had to move because when she tried to grab Paul she walked right past him in two long strides, and grabbed his shoulder when she meant to grab his arm.  
“I hate this!” She snapped. “You’re so lanky it’s stupid, like what is this!?” She stretched her hands up and her fingers skimmed the roof of the ensuite. 

Paul nodded, gulping back that nauseous sensation again. “Well you’re short,” was the only quip he could come up with. “How do you live like this? I can barely see into the mirror.” 

“No time for that! Come on, car! Let’s go!” 

———————————————————

The colonel awoke to give the clock a glare. 5am was way too early to wake up on her day off, but someone was drumming at her door.

Maybe they had had some success with the meteor, and she needed to sign off on something. She kicked her blanket to the side to sit up in bed. “Coming,” she called, pulling her uniform out. 

“We’ve got a case out in the emergency office, Colonel,” came the voice at the other side of the door. 

“Give me one second. Tell them I’ll be right out.” She pulled her beret down from the hook and stormed out to the emergency office to see Paul and Emma standing there, completely awake for the ripe hour of 5am.  
“Oh this is brilliant,” she sighed, able to gather up the scenario from their contrasting body language alone.

Emma was bumping her fists together, her eyes wide and confused while Paul was grimacing, his stance wide and aggressive.

“It’s happened again.” Although if their body language wasn’t enough to give it away, the fact they were still in their pyjamas was another good clue. Paul had one of Emma’s jackets over his shoulders - it did not fit- and Emma was looking fairly swamped down by one of Paul’s sweaters. 

“What do you mean ‘again’!?” Paul barked. “What’s happened again?”

“Paul,” she began, noticing Emma’s head swivel around to answer instead. That was all she needed to figure it out, and she turned to give Emma’s body the attention. “I’m going to address you because you’re taking this a lot more calmly than Emma, okay?” She pulled a seat over, spinning it backwards to straddle it so she could rest her arms on the backrest. It also made it easier to look Emma’s body in the eye. 

Paul, in Emma’s body gave a nod, but she couldn’t tell if it was confident or not. 

“We’ve been doing some work on excavating the meteor from the starlight theatre, and in layman’s terms, the meteor is resisting.” 

“It’s doing what!?” Emma’s jaw dropped, pushing Paul out of the way so she could speak to Schauffer. “This has to do with the meteor!?”

“Emma, you’re freaking out. It’s alright, we’ve got a solution, just let me explain,” she kept her voice level as to not spook her. “So, consider the concept of a hivemind.” She had explained this concept to five prior cases, and this seemed to be the way that freaked people out the least. “It’s everyone’s consciousness pooled together in one big body that is the meteor. The meteor stays attached to the bodies of the hosts to puppet them around, but the consciousness of its hosts are part of the meteor. Make sense?” 

“Wait,” Paul gaped. “I thought we were cured of the infection, like, we weren’t connected to the meteor anymore?” Now they were both panicking.

“Keep breathing you two. Neither of you are infected, it’s residual. The meteor is resisting and so it’s picking and pulling at the threads attached to its fabric, and it’s taking that pool of consciousness and just pouring any of it back into any body it likes. It’s a difficult process to handle but it’s under control.”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘under control!’” Emma stomped her foot. “I’m in Paul’s body!”

“Well rest assured this is the sixth case of this happening. So we’ve already got a solution.”

“Oh thank god,” Emma sighed, throwing her arms around Paul in a hug but sort of missing, and grabbing his head instead. “So we can change this?” 

“Yes, but the process takes about ten hours.”

Both of their faces paled. “What?” Emma’s voice was tiny. 

“Ten hours?” Paul repeated. “A whole day?” 

“Well I’ll need an officer to go through your files and find your blood samples, then we’ll take it from there. So times can vary. The process will be a bit more fluid as we work on it.” 

“Does it hurt?” Paul asked, biting down on his thumb. 

Emma whacked his hand away. “Don’t chew on my fingernails man, I got them done last week.” 

“It won’t hurt, you’ll just need to lie down for a bit, got it?”

“I hate this,” Emma ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it like she was bothered by how short it was. “I can’t stay in Paul’s body all day.” 

“Well you don’t have much of a choice,” Schauffer scratched her neck. “But do us a favour and keep it on the down low, alright? Under wraps, we can’t have the whole town breaking into a panic.” 

“So what’s this gonna be like?” Paul asked, returning to bumping his fists together since he didn’t know what else to do. 

“Well it’s your own individual bodies, right? But your consciousness has swapped over. Make sense?” 

They both shook their heads. 

She grunted and leant forward, her palms out. “It’s your workspace memory, flashbulb, short term. You won’t be able to form any new memories once you’ve swapped back over. It’s your consciousness, yeah? Not so much your personalities.” She waited for a moment to see if anything was processing, but all she was getting was blank stares. “Psychology, not physiology. Yeah, you’ve got no say over that. Paul’s body will react how Paul’s body always reacts and Emma’s too. You’re just hosting it.” 

“So what are we supposed to do?” Paul asked. 

“Oh, just uh, go about your day with your mouths shut, got it? Now, it’s five in the morning, and it’s my day off. Are you two going to be able to calm down?” 

“How do you expect us to calm down!” Emma pressed her hands to her forehead.  
“I feel like I have to learn how to walk all over again!” 

“Emma, don’t panic. This has happened five other times. That’s ten people who have done this successfully.”

“Well how’s Paul going to go be a Barista today? He’s gonna get me fired!” 

Schauffer grinned. “Well you’re both very lucky for a little thing called procedural memory. Paul will still be able to make the coffee, just as long as he knows where everything is. It’s all muscle memory. Emma’s body will do the rest of the work. It’s not bad, honestly. That’s why the media doesn’t have a clue about this.”

Paul frowned. “How am I ever gonna trust anyone ever again?” 

“Look, you’ve been briefed, and the sooner you let me go the sooner I can get to your case.”

And as much as they didn’t want to leave the woman with all the answers, they had to.  
———————————————————

Emma felt sick watching her body move around without her command, it was an indescribable feeling to see your face looking right back at you, speaking in your voice without any input. God, Paul could ruin her reputation so quickly. 

She couldn’t stop herself pacing, all the while Paul was sitting on the door of the bed, almost frozen.  
He wasn’t quite used to the way she had to walk to keep the weight off her bad leg, and he was frustrated with how fast he had to move to keep up with his body’s strides. “I got the short end of the stick,” he groused, crossing his arms. “You just feel tired and angry and you’re so short.” 

“Stop biting my fingers, man!” Emma slapped his hand away from his mouth again. Or was it her hand and her mouth? She wasn’t sure about what belonged to who now. “Uh, you’ve got to go do the opening shift soon.” It felt bad to bring up, and she was feeling surprisingly guilty for just stating the facts. She pressed her palm up to her chest to her racing heart. Why couldn’t Paul keep his emotions in check?

“I was gonna call in sick!” 

“So was I!” Emma paced back and forth, occasionally stretching her fingers right out above her head because she could touch the roof now, and that wasn’t all that bad. 

“I’m gonna throw up again,” Paul announced. 

“No-please- what? Stop throwing up, why are you doing that?” 

He tried to stand again, one hand balancing on the bedside table. “Because this feels weird. It’s not even being short, I’m just in your body and I feel like anything I do is gonna violate you somehow.” 

Emma felt the sensation of blood rushing to her face, and she knew her cheeks were going red again. She rubbed her hands over her skin like she could get rid of the blush. “Just tell Nora you wanna do stock in the backroom or take customer orders. Just stay away from the machines.” She wasn’t about to open up that can of worms. “Here, take my phone and-“ she paused to grab it off her bedside table, shoving it over to Paul. “My schedule is on there somewhere, I’ve got class and I sort of need you to take the notes for me, I can’t skip it. Just don’t look through my shit,” she hurried over to the draws to pull out her work uniform, balling it up and placing it in Paul’s hands.  
Wow. Her hands were sort of small.  
“Just let Zoey do opening today, please don’t get me fired.”

“Thanks for that tip, I’ll do my best. Don’t get me fired either!” 

“You sit at your desk and play solitaire all day! God, ugh!” Emma wiped her palms over the rough skin on her face. “Why are you just so sweaty and anxious!?”

“Well why are you so mad? Like, I’m not trying to yell or get angry but there is so much going on and if I don’t do something it’s gonna drown me!” 

“I’m not a morning person.” Emma didn’t know what else to do except throw up some finger guns. “Just go get dressed so I can get you to work on time.” 

Paul clenched his teeth. “But Emma, I can’t- uh, um,” he held forth the bundle of clothes promptingly. 

Emma wished he would stop talking without thinking, her face was getting redder and redder and it was just embarrassing. “Paul! Yes, get over it, don’t act like you haven’t seen a bra before, okay? Go!” The outburst was a little more Emma than Paul, and fortunately the reaction was a bit more Paul than Emma, and he obeyed without testing it.

Emma had to get dressed too, and it was strange seeing her body fill up Paul’s clothes. They were a perfect fit, and as she waited for Paul to finish she found herself just staring into the mirror trying to make sense of it all.  
“Paul?” She called when he was taking too long. “Babe are you done?” Her voice was so deep, and it made her throat feel scratchy

“Uh, yeah!” He called back. “Are you?” 

Emma showed herself into the ensuite bathroom, Paul was staring the mirror down too. “Do you think you can sit still for a moment? I wanna do my makeup.” She had to lean down just a little bit to get to her draw and pull out her bag. 

“Oh, on me?” Paul raised an eyebrow. “That makes sense! Yeah! Stay in character, I got it.” He hopped up onto the bathroom counter, staring at her. 

“Paul, you gotta close your eyes,” she held up a makeup brush, and it felt clunky in her big hands. 

“Oh, yeah, right.” He wrenched his eyes shut. 

“Lightly.” 

“Got it.”

It was gonna be hell today.  
———————————————————

“Paul?”

Emma was clicking away at a game of solitaire, tapping her feet on the floor and humming. She just felt relaxed sitting down doing fuck all outside of signing a few papers and shooting out a few emails. 

“Paul, hey?” 

God, what was that sound? Super annoying. She just wanted to win this round of solitaire. 

“Hey!” Someone clicked their hands in front of her face and she flinched back, looking up to see Ted. That was right, she was Paul today. “Are you listening? Melissa wants you upstairs in the lobby.”

“Oh, yep. Sorry I was...” What was a reasonable excuse from Paul? “Totally zoned out. I’m coming now.” When she stood up, she felt herself rising up over Ted and she couldn’t stop her jaw dropping and her lips turning into a cruel grin. “Yeah, come on Ted,” she elbowed him. “Let’s move, shortstuff.” 

Ted snorted, elbowing him back. “Don’t get a sore ass on Emma’s behalf. Your back must already be hurting bad enough from having to lean over to kiss her.” He took the lead, not that Emma didn’t know the way well enough. It seemed to be a much shorter trip than she remembered, and as she passed through the doorway she lifted up a hand to slap the arch, just because she could. 

“I do not have to lean over to kiss her.” He didn’t did he? “And I’m not getting butt hurt on her behalf, I just think that’s pretty rude.” She crossed her arms, taking some gratification in being able to look down at him. God, if Paul’s little heart wasn’t such a pussy, she’d be asking to first fight Ted in the parking lot after work, as friends do. 

“Whatever you say, ‘tallstuff,’” he rolled his eyes. “You’ve got some energy today. Feeling good?” He winked. 

For a split second Emma was aware of what that wink meant, but just as quickly it seemed to slip her mind. “I’m feeling alright.” She was quite proud of that answer, Paul was about as average as people got, and that was a very average answer. She turned away from Ted the second she could, waving over at Melissa.

“Hey, Paul!” She called him over, her clipboard clapping down on her desk as she brought it up. “These are all for you,” she pulled the papers off the board and slapped them down in her hands. “That’s the outlines for the new program Mr. Davidson wants you three working on. Does it look like any fun?” 

Emma scanned it, trying not to bite her lip. She didn’t understand a word. “Oh sure. I love computer stuff.” 

“I thought you’d say that. I was going on a coffee run down to Beanies, did you want to tag along?” 

Paul’s heart fluttered at the mention of her workplace, but she wanted to groan. “Yeah, I’d love to.” Not that she wanted any of her shitty coffee. 

She was lucky she knew Melissa well enough to keep up the conversation, but playing the role of Paul she let her do most of the talking. She felt like she was nailing this whole disguise thing, she was cupping her hands together or keeping them in her pockets, any sort of thing Paul would do. The fact she was making a conscious effort made it look even more awkward, but that probably made her Paul impression more convincing. 

As they got closer and closer to Beanies she noticed her heart acting up, getting far too excited. She coughed to clear her throat, her heart never went this fast, it was like it was trying to escape her chest but when she saw herself working at the counter her own shock must’ve cancelled out anything Paul was doing physiologically. 

He looked up when he saw them, not sure what to do with his face. “Hey guys!” He did something weird like his voice like he was trying to put on an impression of Emma despite already having her voice. 

Emma cringed, her face flushing red from second-hand embarrassment. “No, no don’t do that,” she whispered, making a cutting gesture under her neck to tell him to stop. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” He said instead, trying to figure out what Emma wanted him to say. 

Emma rolled her eyes, striding up to the counter to try and lean in for a kiss, but it didn’t really work. 

Paul wasn’t used to leaning up for a kiss so he didn’t even make the effort, and Emma didn’t know what to hang onto. And she noticed with some discomfort that she did indeed have to lean over to get a kiss.  
When she pulled back she wiped her lips. That was messy. That was like kissing herself, it was maybe the worst experience of her life. 

“Black coffee and black tea,” Paul clapped his hands together with a nod, looking just as creeped out as her. 

With a little dissatisfaction, she watched Paul fiddle about with the dials on the machine and stare at the coffee cups to try and tell them apart. She wished Melissa hadn’t tagged along, then maybe she could break character for a moment or even make the coffee herself, not that she even wanted one. “How’s work been?” 

“Interesting,” he clicked his tongue. “I’ve gotten three people’s phone numbers. Can you believe that?” 

Emma blinked, letting herself stare for a moment as Melissa picked up the bulk of the conversation. Three numbers? God, she only got one on a good day. Though, as she would reiterate, she didn’t want any of them. But what was Paul doing to get that? “Why’re you getting phone numbers?” She didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

Paul gave her a look that was just as confused. 

“Aww, a little jealous?” Melissa gave her a friendly shove. 

By now, Emma would’ve finished making both drinks, but Paul was concentrating very hard on jamming the portafilter the wrong way into the coffee machine. “You gotta put it in the other way,” Emma coughed. 

Paul gave an exaggerated nod, turning it the right way. She was curious as to whether this was Paul’s attempt at mimicking her or if this was just all his awkwardness being condensed down into a much smaller being. “Just on that coffee grind, dude.” He pulled the portafilter back out, throwing it up like he was trying to spin it in his hands, but he missed it and it smacked up against the ground. 

Emma and Paul stared at each other. This was not working out. “You should pick it up,” Emma had to remind him, a little appalled at his impression of her.  
She really hated looking at herself, Paul was frowning so much and it just looked pathetic on her. But at the same time, she was probably grimacing the whole time and that wasn’t a good look for Paul. 

“Here’s your coffee,” he pushed the cups across the table, wringing his hands. “Enjoy.” 

Emma gave a nod, making a cheers motion with her hand. This was going to taste like shit. She took a sip of the bitter thing. She didn’t like Beanies coffee, and she especially didn’t like black coffee. But according to Paul’s taste buds, this wasn’t all that bad. “Huh,” she nodded again, satisfied. 

“Not bad?” Paul asked shyly. 

“Not bad. Try some,” she pushed it back across the counter but when Paul took a sip he gagged and pushed it back. He looked fairly distraught that he couldn’t enjoy his favourite drink. 

“Your tea tastes funny today Emma,”  
Melissa licked her lips, lapping at her drink. 

“Oh it must be a problem with the filter. Maybe you got a bit of coffee in there.” 

“It’s okay, it’s a good funny. I like it.”

Did Paul just outcompete her at her job? Today was shaping out weirdly. 

———————————————————

Emma’s college, he had been outside but never inside. Emma was thoughtful enough to give him a little list of directions to follow to get to him to her lecture hall. 

When he started hearing jargon speak he didn’t understand, he figured he must have found the right room and showed himself in, grabbing a seat at the front of the classroom like the good student he was, and the good student he assumed Emma was too. But then people started giving him funny looks, and he guessed this might not be his seat.  
A little embarrassed, he scooped up Emma’s books to carry them up to the back row. 

He hoped Emma was good at Bio, because as busy as he was taking notes he didn’t know how to spell any of those big jargon words, and by the end of the lecture he wouldn’t be surprised if whatever a phospholipid was turned out to be some sort of sauce.  
He just stared at Hidgens with a nonplussed look, and it must’ve given something away because at the end of the lecture he made his way up to his seat, sitting down besides him and slipping a hand onto his shoulder as the class left the hall. 

“Are you okay, dear?” He asked. 

Paul nodded, getting ready to experience some of that classics Hidgens-Emma favouritism first hand. He batted his eyelashes at him, because that was surely something Emma would do. “Yeah, I’m fine Professor.” 

“You’re looking a little lost. Was that too fast for you today? Did you get enough sleep?” 

“Oh,” Paul closed Emma’s notebooks. “Yeah. I’m just tired. You were great, Hidgens. No problems on your end.” 

“Well I’m glad,” he gave her a smile that was reserved only for Emma, one that said ‘you’re doing great anyways, and I’m proud of you’ and it made Emma’s heart trip out. That was the fastest it had gone all day, and Paul was getting used to Emma’s normal heart rate. “Is Paul coming to pick you up or would you like to stick around for lunch? I’ll drive you home afterwards.” 

Imbued with Emma’s confidence, he took the Professor up on the latter option.

Hidgens’ office was fancy, he tried not to let show how impressed he was. Right now, he was Emma and Emma had been here a hundred times before. So he shut his slack jaw and pulled out a seat. Although, when Hidgens asked him what he wanted to order he couldn’t stop it falling right back open. 

Emma spent her lunches sitting in a palace of an office getting her food ordered in? No wonder she never could be bothered to learn how to cook. Lap of luxury. Hidgens was spoiling her. 

“You should chose, Hidgens.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands on a regular basis, but this was twice as bad. He was already feeling weird, so leaving them down by his side like Emma did wasn’t an option, but it felt weirder to touch his skin. He didn’t want to cross his arms across his chest, he wasn’t sure if Emma would be okay with him doing that. So instead he stretched out his arms over the table, which Hidgens took as a little bit of playfulness. 

He gave him a doting grin, ruffling his hair.  
“Oh Emma dear, you’re looking much better now. How’s Paul been?” 

Paul was a little flattered that he was a topic of their discussion, and making use of Emma’s courage he decided to amp himself up. “Paul’s been great! He’s been doing so well lately.”

“Well you speak highly of him as ever,” Hidgens patted down his pockets looking for his phone. “Oh, I’ve left it in the lecture hall. Emma would you be a dear and run and grab it for me?” 

Paul nodded, standing up and retracing his steps to the lecture hall. It gave him a moment to think over the fact that apparently Emma spends her five star lunches bragging about him. Cute. 

He sighted Hidgens’ old style phone up on the lab shelf but now he was truly experiencing the struggles of Emma’s height. He couldn’t reach it, he couldn’t even imagine being able to reach it on his own. He wanted to get back to Hidgens and their lunch, it sounded fun, and he was going to let himself enjoy it because Emma was probably having a riot of her own in his body bullying Ted and hanging out with Melissa. 

He stretched up, his fingers brushing the side of Hidgens phone, and he was just about to grab it when his whole body was shot down by pain. 

He collapsed down to his knees, and Hidgens’ phone fell down on top of him.  
“Shoot,” he rubbed a hand down Emma’s bare thigh after putting Hidgens’ phone aside. Emma had said something about being careful with how he walked, but he didn’t think it would hurt this bad.

“Emma dear? Did you find it?” Hidgens peered into the lab, giving a concerned grunt when he saw him on the floor. “Are you okay?” 

Paul nodded, sticking the bad leg out. “I don’t know what happened, my leg just gave out on me.” 

“Well you know you aren’t supposed to put too much weight on it. You weren’t running I hope. Come on,” he put his hands under Emma’s arms to scoop him up like she was a baby kitten. “Can you stand?”

Paul nodded, he was a little done being touched and fussed over for now. He was missing his own body, and nerve pain was a little bit miserable. He wasn’t even sure if he still had the appetite for lunch.  
“I don’t feel good, Hidgens,” he told him. 

And the professor believed him. “Oh no dearest, well let’s get you home then shall we? And Paul will be home to look after you soon.” 

———————————————————

When Emma finally trudged home after a long and complicated and confusing day at Paul’s office, she dumped his briefcase down on the floor only to find Paul lazing about on the couch. 

“Welcome home,” Paul grinned, very relaxed. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Hidgens right now?” She tried to put on a more intimidating stance but it didn’t really work with Paul’s lanky figure. 

“I told him I was sick,” he beamed at his own ingenuity. 

Emma huffed. “Hey, that’s my confidence, don’t get used to it. I spent a day in your shoes and you’re just a bit- and no offence, a bit of a loser, sort of, maybe.” No matter how rude she wanted to be Paul’s filter always caught it at the last second, and suddenly she was giving an apology before she was even done speaking. “You’re a pushover, I let Ted pick on me all day and I didn’t even get to punch him.” 

“Sorry about that. Walk a mile in someone’s shoes, huh?” 

“Stop saying dumb things in my voice,” she pressed. “I got a text from the PEIP service number, we can head down in a little bit for a fix. Want to head out?” 

Paul sighed. It had happened a few times in the morning, but he did not want to go through the car fiasco again. There was a little bit of trouble with Emma‘s ‘psychology’ in one body and her ‘physiology’ in the other as Schauffer put it, was that it was very hard to get anyone to drive. And fortunately by the time they decided that Paul was going to drive as per usual, things were ready for them down at the PEIP offices.

“Had an interesting day?” Schauffer had stopped by to greet them. 

“Oh interesting for sure,” Paul complained. “Can we just switch back or whatever? Will it all go smoothly?” 

“You sound just like Emma, you had me fooled for a second!” Schauffer chuckled. “Head through and the doctor will take care of you.” 

It was a race to get in there first, neither of them had any clue what to expect, but it was still surprising when the doctor explained he was going to knock them both out. 

And with one needle each that Paul’s body was stupidly scared to receive, they both woke up an hour later in a body they both immediately recognised as their own. 

Emma felt like she had shrunk, but it wasn’t bad. It was good and cosy and a body that fit her heart. 

“Have we got you two? Or have we dropped you back into the hivemind consciousness soup?” She heard the doctor asking.

Emma let out a purr to be back in her own skin, stretching out her legs in the hospital bed just so she could feel where they ended. “I’m here, doctor,” she answered, letting out a laugh as she heard her own voice. 

Paul jolted awake seconds after, his head whipping around to try and take in his surroundings, his hand on his heart. “Oh! Hahah,” he laughed too. “I forgot my heart did that!” 

Emma liked being able to look at his stupid grin, she liked it better on his face.  
“Paul?” She asked.

“It’s me!” He told her excitedly, going to hop out of the hospital bed but his legs buckled and he fell straight to the floor. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to want to keep down for two or three hours,” the doctor only seemed to remember to remind them now. “I’ll give you a moment alone.”

Paul was still in too good of a mood to let the fall ruin it, and so he just laughed a little harder. “I like my body,” he told her, patting his skin down. “I’m anxious all the time but nothing hurts.”

“Oooh! Did you get my bad leg!” Emma exclaimed. “It hurts like shit, right? Now you know how I feel!” 

Paul made his way dizzily to his knees, hauling himself back up into his bed. “Yeah! Did you get any cool Paul Matthews experiences?” He asked, stretching a hand out across the gap. 

Emma held out her arm, their fingertips just touching. “Well it was weird, because sometimes I had moments where I was hyper focused, and then five minutes later I’d be checked right out. Like, people were talking to me and I tuned it all out. But I couldn’t help it.” 

“Oh, I’m glad. Now you can’t snap when I’m zoned out.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Emma’s world was still sort of spinning. But she was happy. Maybe a day in Paul’s body was pretty valuable.  
and maybe for him, a day in hers was just as worthy.


	2. Spies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the spy au man I saw Charlie’s angels once so here’s a spy au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul couldn’t be a spy bc he would infodump on anyone willing to listen

“Oh wow, that’s so cool,” Emma batted her eyelashes, leaning forward to stare at her target longingly. “How does it work? Like, if I wanna get in on this business?”

The man on the other side of the table went red in the face as Emma leant in, getting stammery. “Uh, my boss actually, he’s all in charge of everything, I just handle the odd jobs like uh, meeting clients.”

Emma giggled. He was going to be way too easy to work with. “Aww, so you don’t know anything about it? Not even some little secrets you could slip me? I won’t tell,” she winked, curling her hair around her finger. “What’s your boss like? He must be pretty talented to develop something like this.” 

“Oh, um!” He perked up a little, bumping his fists on top of each other. “Mr. Davidson, he’s at the top of the chain. I don’t know what’s going on too much up the top, I’m sort of just a messenger. But I fix up the little bugs in the system and all that,” he chuckled a little. 

“Oooh,” Emma cooed, resting her head on her palm, locking her doe eyes with his.   
From what she could gather, he was pretty innocent in the whole scheme, but whatever he knew she was gonna get from him. He was the stereotypical blushy computer nerd, she could get anything from him with a compliment and a few aimed smiles. “So you’ve worked on the system? Wow, that’s so cool! Tell me about it!”

“I’m um,” he was red in the face, a cute little anxious smile on his face. “Not supposed to say too much. My boss tells me I can’t really spill anything until he gets the cheque.” 

Emma held back a groan and a roll of her eyes. She was going to make him tell, one of the bigger problems was the security guard hovering over the conversation just inside the balcony doors. “Aww, why’s that?” 

“A few other of my uh, co workers?” He wasn’t certain on that word. He probably didn’t know anyone else in the company, and that meant he probably wasn’t aware how corrupt the corporation was. Developing patents for new technology was great and all until they can be weaponised. “They’ve has these problems with spies or something, hahah, I don’t know. People who take all the information and try to replicate the product, so,” he never seemed to know when to end his sentences, and gave a little acknowledging mumble as Emma stared at him. 

He was sorta cute really. She slipped her foot out from her heel, placing it up on his seat where it was hidden from the guard by the table cloth. “You said your name was Paul right?” 

He nodded, a little flustered. A small gasp escaped him when Emma put her foot on his thigh but he pursed his lips shut.

“Well I think you must be really smart Paul,” she bit down on her lip, one hand reaching out to brush over his. “It looks like a pretty invincible system.” 

“Uh,” he mumbled, his hands were starting to shake. “Thank you, it wasn’t too hard to do. I only do little fixes, like um, there’s this really cool thing the system does where you can plug in certain IP’s for example, and if there’s a little bug I’m working on right now where if you plug in the wrong IP you sorta shut the system down, but we’re working it out!”

Emma nodded, that was exactly what she wanted to hear. And even better, she had him wrapped around her finger. So she stood up, leaning right across the table and watching his face get redder and redder as she hovered her forehead over his. 

But he must’ve taken it as disinterest or something, because he wasn’t done yet talking about computers. “My boss says I’m not really supposed to tell anyone that, oh god, uh, just forget I said that, the system is all worked out and if you were interested in investing then I can pass your details up to my boss!” His voice was a panicked staccato, his eyes crossing to try and maintain eye contact with Emma. 

“Oh, well I think that’s just great. But right now I’m a little more interested in something else.” She licked her lips, keeping her eyes fixed on him. 

But his eyes were elsewhere, they were wide and his pupils were small and he almost seemed to be gasping for breath, he shuffled back in his chair. “I don’t think that’s very professional,” he managed to splutter, fanning his hands. 

Emma took advantage of that, now there was enough room to sit right down in his lap. It was all about keeping her attack casual enough, she was just the decoy after all. “Well does it have to be?” She laughed. “Don’t you wanna have a bit of fun with me?” 

“Um!” Paul exclaimed. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he had to call the guard over or not. “Maybe we should- do this another time, or uh- I’m not- I mean, you’re very pretty and kind but my boss-“ 

She silenced him when her fingers pulled at the waist strap of her own dress. 

“No, no, maybe not,” he tripped over his own words, his face was scarlet at this point, so bright it was it’s own source of light. He put his hands down on Emma’s to stop her pulling the waist strap off. “No, I don’t think I really- not that you aren’t beautiful! But maybe we should go on a date or something first?” 

She grinned, looking down at where his hands rested on hers. “Paul, buddy. I’ve had a great time tonight. Thanks. You were way too easy.” It was like he had walked into the trap. She turned her hands up to grab his wrists, yanking him up from his chair to pin them around his back. 

At the same time, there was a scuffle of footsteps from the guard making his way over with a shout. 

Emma grabbed the waist strap of her belt, taking it off to tie up his hands behind his back. 

The man didn’t have a single clue what was going on, she almost felt sorry for him. 

The guard had his hand on the balcony doorknob when suddenly he crumpled to his knees, blacking out on the floor, revealing the figure of her partner, Melissa.

“Got him!” She flashed Emma a smile, a metal bat tight in her hands. 

“Nah, Mel, you’ve got to lose the bat. Ruins the element of surprise.” It only took a single push to get Paul to his knees. 

“I don’t-huh? What’s going on? Who’s she?” Paul gaped, his jaw hanging open. 

Melissa pushed open the balcony door o take a look at Paul herself. “You were having way too much fun with him.” She held a finger to her earpiece. “All clear, Hidgens!” 

“I was not!” Emma snapped. “I was just doing my job!” 

“Hidgens, Emma’s flirting with the targets!” Melissa spoke through her earpiece. 

Emma smacked her hand down on her own earpiece. “Hidgens! Was not! It was just part of the job!” 

“Girls, stop bickering. You two need to clear off the scene before backup arrives,” his chiding voice came through the speaker. “There will be a helicopter there in two, get ready.” 

Melissa rolled her eyes. “On it, Hidgens.” 

“What’s happening? Who are you?” Paul was pale. 

“Well that’s a secret, Paul. But in short, we’re who your boss was warning you about,” she beamed, she loved the helplessness. 

“Oh I knew this was going to happen to me! I’m an idiot!” 

“No you aren’t, baby,” Emma caressed his cheek with one hand.

“We’re just pretty good,” Melissa finished for Emma, dropping her utility backpack off her shoulders and into the floor with a clank from the equipment inside.

Paul looked like he wanted to slap his forehead, but his hands were engaged with the restraints. “Are you gonna tell my boss? Please don’t do that, I’ll lose my job, I’ll be in really big trouble if he finds out I slipped up. I never know when to stop talking! Are you going to hurt me?”

“It’s okay, little guy,” Emma crooned. “You did just great.” She leaned right in like she was going to kiss him, only veering slightly so she could whisper into his ear. “I’m not gonna be too rough.” 

“Emma!” Melissa thwacked her shoulder. “He’s innocent, stop teasing him.” She handed her over a pair of sneakers from her backpack.

“Fine, fine, I got it!” Emma backed off to slip her other heel off. “Well it was lovely doing business with you, Paul.” She shoved her feet into her shoes, running a hand through her hair to frizz it up a little. The prissy, flirty decoy character wasn’t her favourite role to play. “And good job Melissa.” They bumped fists. 

“All in a day’s work, with a little help from Paul,” Melissa gave him a grin as she walked over to the balcony, the helicopter whirring in the distance. “Sorry for the fright, you sound pretty guilt free. I’d tell you you’re working for a corrupt system and to get out of there but I’m not supposed to get attached to our targets!” 

“I don’t get what’s going on. Am I going to die?” Paul’s voice almost broke into a whimper.

“Ooh no, no, no, you’ll be just fine Paul,” Emma assured him. 

Behind her, Melissa stepped up onto the balustrade of the balcony, keeping an eye on the helicopter as it grew closer. “Come on Emma, we’ve got places to be!” On cue, the helicopter swooped up to the balcony and Melissa dived in with an excited call.

Paul froze. “Oh my god, did she make it? Did she just fall?” 

“It’s all in the line of business Paul,” she hoped up onto the railing, giving Paul one last salute. “Oh, and one more thing? I’ll take you up on that date another day.” 

———————————————————

“Emma, I warned you about not thinking first,” Hidgens scolded her through her earpiece, and her hands were too tied to allow her to tell him to give it a break.   
“You shouldn’t always be too headstrong, it’ll get you in trouble. Now, don’t worry. Melissa is on her way to get you out of there.” 

Emma rolled her eyes as Hidgens’ constant tutting. She had been a little too headstrong and confident though, bursting into an evil and corrupt corporation with ill intent will get you thrown into a shady torture-esque dungeon cell. Her hands were in shackles up above her head, and her feet were only barely on the floor. So yes, she really didn’t need this right now. Melissa better be moving fast. 

“And I think you can be patient waiting for her, because she’s going to take the sensible path to sneak in.” 

“Yes, Hidgens, I get it! I wasn’t listening to you. I’ve learnt my lesson,” she scoffed, even though he couldn’t hear her if she wasn’t holding down the earpiece. 

But she couldn’t help herself sometimes. The moment she had learned innocent people were getting tied up in these schemes it had made her frustrated. She was pissed that the dirty work was getting done by people with no clue what the system was going to be used for. And while she wouldn’t admit it even to herself, maybe Paul had something to do with her sense of urgency. 

She had a bobby pin in her hair, and she could use it to pick the shackle locks if she could reach them, but her hands were pinned up too high, and movement was impossible. All she could do was wait for her partner to make her way down. 

She tried to crane her head when she heard the heavy cell door unlocking and groaned when a muscular looking armed man came in. Oh how she just loved the torture aspect of being a spy. Just great. 

The man was silent, all he did was dump a sack down on the ground and glare at Emma. 

She glared right back. “Is that a present for me?” 

“Don’t be so chatty. The boss don’t like talkers.” 

“He’s gonna hate me then,” Emma snorted. “I have no filter whatsoever. Speaking of which, you couldn’t get better ventilation in here?” 

“You need to stop talking.” His big, meaty hands rustled about in the sack he dropped to the floor and pulled back a metal collar.

She had seen a few of those in her career, but she wasn’t prepared for it to go on so tightly. Most of the time they were just for show or to hold, it was very new to see a collar being used to shut her up. But unfortunately it did the job pretty well.  
She eyed the cell door again. Where the hell was Melissa?

“Learn your lesson.” As if he was done here, the man stood up and stomped out. But seconds later the door was headed open and someone was thrown in. 

It was the man from earlier, Paul. He looked just as frightened as she felt, and he couldn’t seem to speak. 

“Oh man, this is a weird second date,” Emma quipped, coughing around the collar on her neck. It made her voice scratchy and nasally. 

“Oh my god, I-“ he was always stammering, but she never felt impatient with him as he tried to get his words out. “I’m so sorry I messed up, I messed up telling you all that and my boss found out and-“ he gulped, his eyes falling on the burlap sack with horror. “And I tried to quit but I knew too much and now they’re blackmailing me and-“ 

Emma nodded. She had heard that spiel a thousand times. “And now you’ve been roped in to finish off his work?” Emma summarised it all for him and he gave a shaky nod. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do, I can’t, oh my god,” he held a hand to his dry throat. He looked like he was about to collapse. 

“And he wants you to kill me with that sack full of weapons?” She pointed it out with her foot. 

Paul was frozen in his spot, he looked at the bag and then Emma, and then back at the bag. 

“Can I at least take my pick?” She joked. This man was too cowardly to do anything to her. It looked more torturous for him. 

“I didn’t know what the system was being used for, I swear. I didn’t know they had weaponised it, I was just the computer guy! I can’t kill anyone!” 

Emma cleared her throat. She wanted to pull at the collar to give herself a little more breathing room, but it was too hard. “What’s in the sack?” 

The question seemed to calm the frantic man down just a little bit, he worked easier when he was being told what to do. He dragged it over, and Emma could hear all the metal rattling inside. 

When he had pulled it close enough, Emma kicked it open with her foot. “That’s a pretty dope blade if I’m honest.” She was going to take that the second Melissa got her out of her shackles. There were lots of things inside that gave her butterflies in her stomach. 

Knuckle busters, shears, finger clamps.   
A lot more exciting than just the regular old knife or gun. This guy’s boss really was evil. 

“What looks most interesting to you, bud?” Emma asked, getting her foot underneath the blade to kick it out of the bag. 

“Please stop asking me that. Oh god, oh god. I don’t think I can kill anyone.” He picked up the blade, only because Emma had knocked it out of the bag where it belonged. “I can’t kill anyone,” he repeated to her like it was a mantra 

“Oh come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m sure you can! You’re a big man and I’m a nasty, evil spy. Come on, show me what you’ve got,” Emma was somehow just a little bit bored, and this very cute and flustered boy was her only source of entertainment. “I mean, what are they even blackmailing you for? What could you possibly have done that’s bad enough for you to need to kill someone? I’m curious.” 

Paul took a tighter grasp on the blade, for a second his eyes rolled back like he was going to faint. “They’ve got my family, and they aren’t going to let them go.”

“Oh, well that isn’t really blackmail, that’s ransom,” she corrected him. She certainly had the time to educate him, because Melissa was taking her sweet time. 

“If you let me out of here I could totally help get them back.”

It was probably the most painful thing to watch the hope bloom and crumple in his eyes in a matter of seconds. “I can’t. There’s one of his men standing outside the door and he’s making me do this.”

“Well you aren’t doing much of anything, Paul, you aren’t very brave are you?” 

“Please don’t make fun of me. I really don’t want to hurt you. I’m not a bad man, I swear.” He held up the knife like it was supposed to be a threat. 

“Ugh. You’re a bit of a pussy, man. The real torture is your indecisiveness. Do I have to show you how to do it?” 

“Cut it out! Please!” Paul tried to snarl. “You really are a bad spy! Stop it!” He stretches out his hands to give her what was most likely intended to be a slap across the face, but the delivery was poor.

“Try again,” she told him. “The secret is to hit with the fingers, not the palm.” 

“Stop it!” He balled his hand up again. “Do you want me to hurt you!?”

“Yeah! Go right ahead! I’m still waiting! Let me give you the tutorial. I’ve been on both ends of the stick more times than I can count.” She kicked the bag of weapons onto the floor, scattering them. “Do you wanna see a cool scar I’ve got?” 

“Stop talking,” he tried to plead with her. “I don’t want to hear about it. I want nothing to do with it.” 

“It’s on my thigh,” she stuck out her leg. “I got stabbed there once.” 

“Don’t make me look at it!” Paul hissed. “Shut up! Shut up! You’re making me really stressed out.” He tried to block his ears. 

“The knife went all the way through, oh my god, and it hurt like a bitch. But nothing has topped it since. Maybe you should try? Get creative.” 

He snarled through gritted teeth, yanking at the chain attached to her collar to silence her. “Stop! Just shut up!” 

Emma gagged a little, catching her breath when he let go. “Holy shit.” 

“Oh damn it! I didn’t mean to, I was stressed! You were stressing me!”

As of now, her plan was to guilt Paul into letting her go unless Melissa showed up first. “I tend to have that effect on people I’ve heard.”

He held the knife up above his head like he was really going to stab her, but before he could she rolled her neck to get a bit of breathing room. “My name is Emma, by the way.” 

Paul whined and dropped the knife so he could put his hands to his head. “Don’t tell me your name! You’re making this so much harder for me, please!”

“I’m thirty, and I’ve got a little puppy at home I have to get back to,” she winked before adding: “but I live alone, totally single.” 

“Why would you get a dog if you might die! Oh! I can’t do this, I can’t!” 

She knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t have an angry bone in his body. “Hey, can you come here for a sec?” She asked.

“Huh? Why?” Paul did as he was told though, and awkwardly shuffled close to her.

“Yeah, perfect. Just stay still.” She pressed her wrists into the shackles, flexing her core so she could lift up her legs and wrap them around Paul’s hips. That’s all she needed, the shackles had been too high up to put her feet on the ground, so she couldn’t jump.

She had nearly forgotten how red that man’s face got. For her own fun, she pulled him a little closer so she was pressing up against him. 

“What-what are you doing?” He put his hands on her thighs to let her know he was about to push her off. 

Now that she was stable enough she pulled one leg back and hoisted it up to Paul’s shoulders so she could cross her legs around his shoulders. “Stay still, stop squirming,” she ordered. 

“I am very uncomfortable!” He informed her, yet he still kept his hands on her back to balance her. “What are you doing?” 

With that added height, she could raised her hands through the shackles. She bent her wrist down to pull a bobby pin out of her hair. “I’m breaking out. Because no offence, you’re a pretty lame cell guard, and I’ve got places to be, so I can’t stick around to watch you build up the courage to glare at me.”   
Once the first shackle was off she released Paul from her hold, kicking him back. “I feel sorry for you, because you really didn’t want to be dragged into this lifestyle,” she picked the other lock, giving her wrists a rub once they were free. 

Paul was seeming to only realised he had messed up, and he scrambled to pick the knife up off the floor. He tried to call out for the guard, clearly having learnt his lesson from their first encounter, but Emma hushed him by simply placing a finger to his lips. 

“Paul, you’re a good man. I really believe that. You don’t represent this company at all. I was speaking with my partner, and we know you’re not involved with this whole scam. Give her some time to get her and we’ll get you out of here, put you in witness protection or something. You don’t have to kill me.” She held out a hand to calm him, plucking the knife from his grip and pocketing it. 

He stood there, stunned, as Emma turned her back to talk into her earpiece. “I’m free now, Hidgens. No thanks to Melissa who is yet to make her entrance. I’ve got this Paul guy here with me from earlier too. The company has his family ransom, we should check that out.” 

“Emma,” she instantly recognised the tone in his voice that told her this was about to be a lecture. “Why is he with you? You’d better not be flirting with the opposition again.”

“He’s cute but I am not flirting with him!” She spat back. Well, she wasn’t in the standard fashion anyways. “Hidgens, I gotta go. I’ve got things to deal with.” 

“Alright then dear. Stay safe Emma.” 

“Got it.” She pulled out her earpiece for a moment. “Paul,” when she turned back around she realised he had listened to the whole thing. “Uuhh, we’ll get your family out. Don’t even worry about it,” she evaded mentioning that middle part. 

It was a welcome distraction apparently, because he sunk to his knees with a relieved sigh and a bit of a wail. 

She brushed her hair off her neck to get to the clasp at the back of the collar, pulling it off her neck for a breath of fresh air. “I’d give this whole place like two out of five stars. Pretty lame experience honestly.”

“Wait, why two stars?” 

“Well, I’ve seen worse. And plus, my supposed torturer was pretty cute,” Emma gave him a hand to haul him back to his feet. 

“I think I’m getting mixed signals from you. I mean I think you like me but you’re a spy, and I think I like you too but this is all a very shocking experience for me.” 

Emma smiled. Her smile was a little crooked and it came up more on one side than the other. “You’re cute when you stutter like that. And I promise this time I’m not just saying it to get information out of you.” 

His hands rushed to cover his eyes like it was too much attention from him. “Oh, thank you, you’re very pretty too. I like your hair.” 

She felt her own cheeks flushing just a little bit as she put her earpiece back in just in time to receive a warning from Melissa.

“Stand back from the door!” 

She only had enough time to grab Paul around the waist and throw themselves down to the ground when the door burst open. 

Melissa was as armed as the guard as they stumbled in, but they were grappling and neither one of them could reach their weapons. 

“Stay here!” She warned Paul, untangling herself from his limbs. She shot up, whipping out her knife to plunge it into the guard’s skin and send him to the ground. 

He let out a pained screech, and Melissa finished him off while Emma took the liberty of covering Paul’s eyes.

“Did you just kill him?” Paul whispered, his eyes still shut when Emma removed her hands. 

“Uh, all in a day’s work?” Melissa offered up hopefully. “It was a team effort. Look, Paul was it? He was a bad man, don’t even worry about it. He probably did really bad things, he has the face of a man that steals from the poor.” 

“A capitalist?” Emma suggested. 

“Oh yeah, total capitalist. That’s why I’m numb to guilt.” She held out a bloodied hand to Paul as if to offer it to shake.

Paul politely declined, edging back from the body. 

“So, how’d you get out Emma?” Melissa took it as a sign to at least wipe the blood off her hands. 

“Oh, all in a day’s work, with a little help from Paul,” she joked. “Look at this cool ass knife I got though,” Emma yanked it right back out of the man’s back, spinning it around on her fingers. 

Melissa awed at it, taking it from her to examine on her own and take a look through the burlap sack. 

“We’d better get out of here,” Emma gave a nervous laugh. “We can put you in witness protection, and another gang will make sure your family is safe.” She played with her hair. “And maybe I’ll see you around?” 

“Can I kiss you?” Paul’s voice was nearly so quiet that Emma didn’t hear it. “If that’s okay. You’re really pretty, and I hope I’m reading into it right.” 

Emma wasn’t really supposed to get involved with anyone while on the job, but it was sort of different when she had already met him once, wasn’t it?   
“Sure,” she told him, crossing her arms just to watch him struggle. Whoever this man was he had a talent for making everything ten times harder than it should be. 

Paul didn’t seem to know what to do. Awkwardly, he shuffled in, putting a hand on her shoulders and then slipping it down to her waist. He sort of pulled her in but panicked when her pelvis touched his hips and let go. He settled on leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek.   
“Thank you,” he brushed his hands together. “For the kiss, and for saving me.”

“Well thank you for not torturing me, pal,” she scuffed her fist against his chest. She was strangely flustered herself. “Come on, why don’t you come with us?” 

He nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“Melissa! Come on!” She called to her partner. 

“I’m checking out this bag! Gimme a sec!” She was knelt over by the sack, scavenging. 

“Sorry, you met Melissa that time. She’s a bit of a handful.”

Paul shook his head a little meekly. “It’s okay, I don’t mind waiting. As long as no ones coming for me I mean.”

“We’ll try again with that kiss another day,” Emma waved a hand. “We’ll get another date. I promise it won’t involve any spy shit next time.” 

“What do you mean?” Again with the red cheeks and the stammering, but this time, a hopeful smile. 

“Well you know what they say, third times a charm.”


	3. Witches (part 1?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witches au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was a bit inevitable but I just rlly love witches

“Oh get a load of this!” Ted whooped as he raced to the IT room, holding his phone out to show them all an article. “Witch Hunter General Mcnamara is heading out for a hunt, right now!” 

Paul leant back as Ted shoved his phone into his face. He always thought Ted was a bit of a suck up to Mcnamara using his full title like that. “In the middle of the day? I thought that was a midnight thing.” 

“Yeah! Oh my god, this is so good!” He passed his phone around the room, practically bouncing. “I literally just got back from my lunch break though so I can’t go check it out, it’s like, you’re fucking with me!” He rolled his head back, clutching his phone to his chest before Bill’s eyes could even adjust to the phone in his face. “I just would die to see one in person!” He groaned. 

“It’s a wonder you’ve ended up here instead of joining the Hunting Guild,” Charlotte rested her head in her hands. “You would do such a good job keeping this town safe, Ted,” she had the sweetest doe eyes for him. 

Ted would be a great Hunter honestly, and it wasn’t just his enthusiasm, it was that he wasn’t afraid. He could look a Witch dead in it’s cold, black, empty eyes and beat it in a staring contest, Paul on the other hand could barely walk past the Wanted Posters without his heart skipping a beat. There was something so dark about the look in their eyes, they were a shade of black darker than space and deeper than the sea, they almost seemed to absorb the light around them.  
Witch Hunter General Mcnamara always says never to look a Witch in the eye, even the Biology Professor, Henry Hidgens claims the same. 

Henry Hidgens was the only qualified man in town who would dare even speak about Witches out loud. Charlotte believed even speaking about Witches brought you bad luck. 

“Hey, I was just about to go on my lunch break,” Paul blurted out before he could stop himself. Ted would make him waste his time tailing the Hunters to try and get photos. “I-I was going down to that coffee place,” he stammered instead to change topics. 

“Oh my god, really!” Ted searched frantically for something on his phone. “No you aren’t! The boss was a Witch, the whole place has shut down!”

“What?” Charlotte’s jaw dropped and Bill’s hand flew to his heart. 

“The boss?” Paul had never met the boss in that case, he was pretty sure he would’ve noticed one of those monsters, the horns and the grey skin and the eyes were a dead give away. 

“Yeah, the Hunters bet she must’ve been using some hiding spell or something, like a facade,” he let out an excited coo at the idea, his eyes were so wide with exhilaration. “Isn’t that so fucked up? Anyone could be a Witch!” 

Paul took a cautionary glance at both of his co workers. There were little tells, things you’d never thing you’d notice - a lack of a shadow, the pupils not being the right shape, the arms just a little longer than they should be, all things that could easily go unnoticed. He began biting his lip, maybe he would just skip his break. 

“Yeah, McNamara’s been doing the math, this girl Nora? She’s been at the scene of like four different Magic Alarms going off. Apparently last week the Beanies Magic Alarm went off and he pinpointed her!” He made a stabbing motion with his hand as he recounted the story. 

“Well, how about we all go watch the fireworks tonight if he catches her?” Bill suggested with a smile. 

“What do you mean ‘if?’ Of course he’ll catch her!” Ted punched Bill in the shoulder playfully before racing off to go show everyone else the news. 

“God, hah, bad time to take my coffee break,” he tugged at his tie. He can’t believe he’d been drinking there all that time. He hated the idea that he had even been in the same building as one of them. Maybe that’s what the taste in the coffee was, blood or bones or some sacrificial cult shit, it made him lose his breath. 

“What do you mean? Now is the best time to take a break, Paul! No Witches are getting to you while Mcnamara is out there,” Bill smiled. These were the only sorts of days where dear didn’t cling to people like a bad scent. 

Even as he walked down the road on his break there were excited faces peering out from behind each window. The streets were filled with witch burning songs, all slightly off key but no one seemed to mind, except Paul that is. And not because he liked Witches, don’t get him wrong, he just hated little songs like that. He wouldn’t show it though, even that was grounds enough for a Hunter to come to his house and take him away.

He’d have to go to the Lakeside mall now that Beanies was going to be shut off, what he wasn’t expecting was for the roadblock to show up so early. 

It was hastily set up in the middle of the road, mostly made of blocks and Guild cars, sirens still whirring. 

Paul tried to peer through the gaps at the heavily armed Hunters in their black uniforms and utility vests. They had swarmed the poor coffee shop, there would be no chance for the Witch to escape. 

Good. 

It was a cute little coffee shop, but all witches had disguises like that. They were cunning creatures 

He craned his neck, he hadn’t missed the hunt yet, maybe he could get a glimpse of Mcnamara, or even the Witch. He was curious as to what form the Witch would choose to take, he just hoped it wouldn’t be in its true form. 

“Hey!” Someone approached him from behind, elbowing past the gathering crowd to his side. “Can you move out of the way?”

Paul whipped around, pulling out an excuse before he even saw who was talking. “Sorry! I was just trying to see, I can move!” He offered.

It was a girl around his own age that had spoken. She looked up at him with impatiently, her arms crossed. “Yeah thanks, I need to get across.” She nodded, stepping aside as if to offer him her own place. “Are you listening? I don’t have the time to wait.” She had her hair tied up in a messy bun, and there were deep circles under her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Paul shook his head. “Only Hunters are allowed through. There’s a hunt, but it’s nearly done!” He tried to comfort her just incase she was mad. 

Her eyes widened. “Right now?”

“I know, weird to have it so early in the day right?” He tried to smile. “Mcnamara will catch it soon though, then you can go!”

“Uh Yeah, I know. Let me past, I’m a Hunter,” she declared. 

Paul gaped. She wasn’t dressed like a Hunter at all. She wasn’t wearing the uniform, and she wasn’t built like one either. She was short and was leaning all her weight onto one leg like she couldn’t use the other, not to mention her absolute lack of weaponry. “It’s dangerous,” Paul piped up, he didn’t think she was a Hunter, but he wasn’t going to argue 

“I know! I know what I’m doing,” she hissed, slipping past him and through the barricade, vanishing down the road. 

Paul watched her go, grimacing. “Wow. Okay then,” he mumbled as he returned his focus to the Witch’s den.

“We’ve got her!” One of the Hunters shouted, the gathered crowd let out a thrilled gasp, all bustling for a chance to see Mcnamara. But the road blocks were tall and he could barely see above them himself. 

Everything fell dead silent as John McNamara exited the coffee shop with two Hunters following behind him. 

One man was holding a girl with a sack over her head and Witches handcuffs dug so tightly into her wrists that Paul could tell it would bruise. The girl was struggling even now. It must’ve been the Witches facade. His stomach stirred with unease at the familiar uniform even if he couldn’t see her face. The other Hunter held a gun to her back. 

She was stumbling as she walked, unable to find her footing. 

The cuffs were on tight, eating into her already bruised skin. She was digging in her heels rather well for such a harmless looking thing, but she wasn’t as strong as Paul had imagined. His mind was yet to process that this was a Witch, it was a very believable facade, she must’ve been one of the Witches on the highly wanted list. 

“We don’t want any blood. Just pick her up,” Mcnamara ordered, turning to the rest of his team to dismiss them. “I’ve got it from here.” He opened up the wagon door.

The Hunter with the gun nodded and thrust the handle of his shotgun into her neck and she promptly collapsed. They tossed her limp body into the back of the squad van, locking up the three locks.  
Several guards got into their respective vans, three others were taking down the road blocks.

Paul hesitated, wincing at the sound of the Witch’s body smacking against the floor of the van. He let the audience of reporters and fans flock to the scene before walking through himself, bumping his fists together. 

“Mr Mcnamara! Mr Mcnamara!” A boy from the crowd ran out towards the Witch Hunter. “Thank you for catching it!”

“Did you like that, young man? You don’t have to worry as long as I’m around,” he ruffled the boy’s hair, a great smile coming to his face. 

The boy let out an excited yip when he realised how close to the wagon he was standing. His father came from behind and scooped him up, drawing him back from the wagon.

Mcnamara gave the father an understanding grin. “Isn’t that great, young man? I promise, as long as I’m here I’ll be watching out for everyone. You’ll always be safe.”

“I’ll be a Witch Hunter too when I’m older!” The child cheered.

“Oh really? Well I look forward to seeing you then,” Mcnamara shook the child’s tiny hand before turning to another member of the crowd that had formed around him. 

A rain of applause and congratulations fell on the Hunter. He stayed for only a moment to greet the crowd before giving a grand bow and hopping into his own patrol car to drive away, leaving the two Hunters to deal with the wagon.

Paul left a wide berth between themself and the wagon as he passed, walking through the gutter as the street began to fill up with people still trying to get a glimpse of the Witch or the Hunter or even just the scene.

“Hey! You!” Came a call from behind them.

Paul dug his nails into his palms at the hostility and impatience in the voice. “Huh?” He turned around to see the girl with the funny walk shouldering her way through the herd to get to them.

“Has John already left?” She was breathless by the time she reached Paul.

“Mcnamara?” He nodded, “it’s just reporters in there now.” He cocked their head to the side, waiting for an explanation from the girl.

She nodded. “Thanks, ugh, thanks! Bye!” She was already walking off before she had even finished speaking, racing off in the opposite direction of the Hunting Guild.

Paul watched her run off with a confused shrug. If she was a Hunter, she was certainly a weird one. Maybe she was just a friend of Mcnamara's. mcnamara m, or a persistent reporter. But the fuss of the hunt was over quickly, and he had to hurry now if they still wanted to get coffee or lunch before his break was over.

The sound of drilling and hammering pulled them out of their thoughts. For a while now, the Lakeside mall had been under construction, leaving only a few shops left often. Fortunately, a coffee shop was one of them.

He handed over a fistful of change to the barista in return for a mediocre cup of black coffee before taking a seat by the window. The drink was too bitter and they ended up using it to keep their hands warm instead. It was definitely not the same as at Beanies. It made his skin crawl though, what if this is what real coffee tasted like and he was just being poisoned for the last several months with Beanies coffee?

Outside, a heavier rain had finally started. Dark, murky puddles began to form in the potholes.

He began eyeing the time impatiently, he would have to walk back through that soon. Only twenty minutes now. He sighed and stretched his back until it cracked. He pulled out his headphones to listen to his own music rather than all the Witch Hunting songs people were still singing as they walked through the streets. He put his head down on the table for a few minutes of peace, his heart was still racing from the news Ted had so boisterously delivered. 

For a moment he thought he heard some sort of wail, but it fell short. He readjusted his headphones and lifted his head.

The Barista was yelling, pointing frantically out the window.

Paul shot up, yanking out his headphones. Immediately their ears began to ring.

“Hurry!” Another person called.

Paul felt their whole body freeze up, a cold feeling seeping into their racing heart. It was not a wail they had blocked out, but the shopping centre’s own Magic Alarm. 

A disarrayed policeman was dashing down the path towards the coffee shop, a Hunter on each side. 

“Are any of you hurt?” He asked as he slammed the door shut, Paul had never seen Sam so flustered.

Paul looked down at his palms as if he was expecting them to be bleeding. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a Witch on the premises. You have to move inside.”

“Where?” Asked another customer, his hands shaking violently. “Where?” He repeated when the officer didn’t answer fast enough.

The Hunter stepped in front of the officer, patting the man’s shoulder firmly. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mcnamara has already been called and we have ten Hunters already on the scene.”

Sam directed one of his hands at the door, “we have to move you all into the main centre, there’s a Magic Blocker inside, you’ll be much safer. Is everyone alright to move?”

Paul felt his hands start to go numb. “Really? We have to go out there?”

The officer nodded. “Yes, we have to move fast. Is there anyone else in the building?”

The Barista shook her head. “O-only us,” she stammered. “Are we going? Will we be safe?”

“You’ll all be safe. Just stay between us.”

Paul cleared his throat, pulling at his collar. “Is it angry?” He blurted out.

Sam’s face hardened and the two Hunters growled. “Don’t worry. Let’s just move, we have the right to open fire if we see the Witch.”

“Shit, really?” The Barista pulled at the strings of her apron, tossing it down on the floor. “Can we go? Can we go now?”

The Hunter’s positioned themselves on either side of the trio as Sam took up the front.

Paul flinched as the bell above the door rang when it opened. 

“Shhh,” the officer whispered, his hands tight around his gun. 

Paul balled his hands into fists, eyeing their surroundings cautiously, afraid of what they might see. They were moving far too slowly, waiting for the Barista to help the younger patron along, his legs had locked and he couldn’t move on his own.

Paul felt the hunter on their side reach for their gun, there was a flurry of movement and a burst of wind and before Paul could process any of it they were on the ground.

“Move, move, move!” Sam took up the rear, pushing the Barista and the boy along faster. One Hunter helped Paul back up, both of them had their guns out now.

“Come with me,” he yelled, taking Paul roughly around the wrist and dragging him back the other way. “We’ve found it,” he called into the radio on his shoulder. “It’s all under control,” he added to Paul. 

“Let Mcnamara know, he’s gonna be fucking pissed. Move!” The second Hunter snapped to his friend. 

Paul didn’t know where to look, he didn’t know where the Hunter was taking them or what had happened. Everything was a blur and he just kept on running.

The Hunter pulled them around the corner, taking them in the direction of the underground carpark. “Get in! There’s a blocker, you’ll be safe. Take the stairs back to the first floor, there’s a squad in there.” They abandoned Paul by the entrance and as if there was nothing more important in the whole world than this chase, their guns firing wildly.

Paul’s brain didn’t feel connected to his body, whatever he was seeing or hearing wasn’t processing right. This level of chaos never happened when the alarms went off anywhere else, it felt just like a bad dream. His feet moved before he could think, rushing him into the carpark. 

It was eerily quiet underneath the shopping centre, no noise but the ringing in their ears and the echo of his footsteps. Even the alarms going off upstairs were muffled and faint. It was nearly calming until the silence was shattered by a gunshot.

“What’re you doing!? Get upstairs!” A hunter shouted, charging full speed down the slope into the car park. “Over there!” 

Urgency flooded back into his body, his heart bursting from his chest as he began to run. He didn’t even know where to head. The parking lot was so big and there wasn’t any proper signage anywhere, none that they could make out with their vision shaking anyways.  
His head was swivelling side to side, searching for the exit, but part of him was looking for the Witch too. He had never seen a real one in person, free, without any Hunter trying to cover them up. He wanted to catch just a glimpse of something so dangerous and violent, just to see what form pure and unfiltered evil might take, but he saw the staircase first and had no excuse to keep looking. 

He was skidding around the corner when something snagged at his arm, yanking him to the ground behind a car. Without warning a hand clamped over his mouth as his hip hit the floor. 

A cold voice hissed into his ear. “Don’t say a thing.” It was the Witch.

Paul eased himself slowly up into a sitting position to tend to his hip, trying not to struggle or upset his captor.

The Witch wrapped one arm across his shoulder to lock them in place. “Do you have a car?”

Paul didn’t know whether to shake their head or answer honestly. 

“Where?!” The Witch’s voice was rough and androgynous, making it impossible to identify who it might belong to. 

“I-I walked,” he stammered, hoping that wouldn’t enrage the Witch. He hated the feeling of its nails on his skin, they could cut him open at any second. 

“Come out and surrender!” Sam called, now with the two Hunters in tow. “If you come out now we will not shoot.”

The Witch’s hand slipped from Paul’s shoulder, shaking. “Shit...”

Paul risked a look at the Witch, trying subtly to twitch his head far enough to one side before the Witch could compose itself. A spike of panic shot through him as they recognised her face. 

It was no demon, no beast or monster, but the short girl with the funny walk he had seen outside Beanies. She didn’t have black eyes, but rather beautiful brown ones. Her skin was deathly cold, but she didn’t look undead or ghastly. In fact, she looked just as human as Paul.

In the moment he let his guard down though the Witch had grabbed him again. “You’re going to have to do something for me,” the Witch’s brown eyes darted from side to side as she began to formulate a plan. “Distract the hunters,” she ordered. “Just get them out of here, make them drop their guns or something,” she pressed both of her hands against her face to calm herself.

Paul was too tense to move from his position on the Witch’s knees. “What if they shoot me?” Surely a Witch had magic for this sort of thing.

The Witch’s hands shook, frustrated. She clearly hadn’t expected them to refuse. “Listen, that dumb Magic Alarm is giving me a headache and I can’t do anything until it goes away!” 

The magic blocker must really work, he pulled back from the Witch with a gasp. He could run. “You can’t do anything!”

The Witch shook her hands, reaching out to grab Paul’s collar and tug him back in. “Just get out there, getting shot is the last thing you have to worry about right now!”

Paul batted the Witch’s hands off his jacket, opening their mouth to come up with a defence.

“Don’t try anything clever!” She spoke over them.

“Come out!” Shouted Sam. 

“That’s your cue,” she let go of Paul, shoving them out into the open.

One guard was quick with his gun and fired a warning shot that ricocheted off the wall and into the concrete. “She was here a moment ago,” Sam huffed. “Where did she go?”

Paul’s mind was completely blank. He pointed to the staircase.

One Hunter nodded but the other was more relieved, his head rolling back and a heavy sigh escaping his mouth. “Perfect. We’ll get her in the stairwell, she’s trapped. Let’s go, Mcnamara kill us if we miss this.”

“Come with me, Paul. We’ll get you out of here. We’ll take you down to the Hunting Guild to speak with Mcnamara, okay?” He tried to tug him away as the Hunters bolted off.

Paul had no control over their body as he shrugged. “I have to go back to work,” he stammered. 

He looked astounded. “Paul, you need to come with us. There’s a hunt right now, you shouldn’t be outside.” There was a shout from over his shoulder and he glanced back. “Wait here, I’ve got to help.”

Paul didn’t think he could move even if he wanted.

Sam nodded and cocked his gun before running off towards the staircase. 

It had happened so quickly that the empty space that filled up the aftermath seemed to take forever until the Witch shot up from her hiding space, rushing right past Paul before doubling over and panting. “Can you believe it?” The Witch exclaimed. “They were going to shoot me! I’m gonna!”

Paul edged back towards the exit.

She trailed off. “You,” she turned back around, catching Paul with her eyes before he could escape. “Move out of my way. They’ll come back when they figure out it was a trick.” 

“No, no. I can’t, I can’t let you go! I don’t know what to do!” It was part of his duty as a citizen, to aid the hunters if they needed it. The whole town was expecting him to stay rooted, but he just couldn’t. 

“I hardly see how that’s your biggest issue right now,” the Witch rubbed her creased forehead. 

Paul shook his head. “Aren’t you a Witch?”

She nodded. “Surprised? Look. You aren’t even worth the trouble, I’m out of here.”

Paul’s brows furrowed, the cold fear in his stomach replaced with a hot anger. “No you aren’t.” The Witch was not what he expected, he was almost in denial. Witch or not, Paul wasn’t afraid of a girl who was barely scraping the height of his shoulders. 

“Well, actually I was,” the Witch gave her head a slight shake, confused. “Move out of my way.”

“I’m not letting a Witch escape, it’s like, you aren’t even that scary!” Paul stretched his back to emphasise the point he was taking command. God, this would be something to brag about to Ted when he got back - if he got back.

The Witch pressed both her hands to her temples, “are you kidding me right now!? I’m not dying just because you decided to play hero. Thanks for your help? Sorry for pushing you? What do you want? A medal?”

Paul eyed the staircase door, the Hunters weren’t back yet, and the Witch was going to escape. Without thinking, he lunged forward to grab her.

The Witch dodged to the side surprisingly fast, stumbling to regain their balance. Her eyes were wide with fear so earnest and human that Paul raised his hands in defence. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing here. If you keep standing in my way those men are going to come back out here and shoot me to death. Okay? And what’s that going to do for you? John Mcnamara isn’t going to make you an honorary Hunter, is that what this is all about?”

“A Hunter?” Paul repeated. “No, I don’t want to be a Hunter.” But speaking of them, where were they? They still hadn’t come, but he could hear their deep shouts echoing down from the staircase.

“Then let me out of here! I wish I could’ve been stuck with someone more helpful!” She closed her eyes in a moment of frustration, struggling to come up with a new plan. She took in one deep breath and he watched her count the seconds out on her fingers before exhaling again.

It was that simple action yet it made his head hurt. It was far too human, too vulnerable. It was a breathing exercise Paul used to use himself before exams when he was still in school. Except this wasn’t just a test for this girl, this was a life or death situation and Paul was the one standing in her way. He wished she had black eyes, or horns sprouting from her head, anything that would make him feel less guilty about not helping her but she was just as plain as Paul.  
“Uh, let’s go,” he tapped the Witch’s shoulder to grab her attention.

“Go?” The Witch exclaimed. “Uh, yeah! I’m trying! Move!” 

“No, I’ll help you, I’ll get you out of here. Let’s go now. They’ll catch you.”

The Witch raised on eyebrow. “Are you joking?” She held a hand to her face like she couldn’t believe it.

“No!”

“I just want you to move out of the way. I’m not going anywhere with you!” The sound of boots racing down the steps rang out from the stairwell, and it seemed to snap the Witch back into the reality of the situation because she quickly changed her mind. “Oh Gods, no, yes, are you being serious? Move then, now!” 

Now it was his turn to push, he ushered the Witch along faster, guiding her out of the carpark. She just didn’t quite seem to be able to move fast enough, and if the Hunters came back before they could get out, he’d be dead too. He wasn’t even thinking, he just scooped the Witch up in his arms and began to run. 

The Witch wrapped her cold hands around his stomach tightly, sending a shiver up his spine. “What’re you doing!?”

Her shout wasn’t loud enough to mask the cries and yells of the Hunters as they made it back to the car park, but Paul was already out of there. 

“Are you crazy!? What if-“

“I know!” He cut her off. “Are they following us?” 

“Not yet,” the Witch took in a deep breath before pressing her forehead up against his chest. He could feel her shivering. 

He turned the first corner he could, pulling her down into an alleyway. He knew he could take it back to CCRP if he was running late, but he wouldn’t with a Witch.

As soon as they had stopped she shoved her palms into Paul’s chest. “Let me down!” 

“Really?” He huffed, dropping her down onto her own feet which seemed to fail disastrously. She didn’t land on them at all, but fell to her knees with a groan. 

“Can you not?” When she stood back up she distanced herself from him quickly, she leant back against the wall like she was catching her breath. She inhaled deeply before turning to Paul. “Follow me and I’ll kill you.” 

“Oh,” he was surprised she was just walking off like that. “That’s it?” He was sort of expecting a thank you at least, or some sort of explanation.

“Obviously? The second I’m out of here you’re going to turn around and report me.”

“They’ll catch you before I can tell them,” Paul listened out for the sirens that would surely be coming. 

“They won’t. And what does it matter to you?” She snarled. “I’ll get home on my own.”

He tilted his head. “Do you have like, a broom or something? Or can you teleport?”

“To fly on?” She chuckled coldly and turned back around, “that’s an ugly stereotype.”

“My name’s Paul,” he held out one hand, flustered. 

The Witch recoiled, her face screwing up. “Why’d you tell me that?”

“What’s your name? I mean, it’s not like that can help them track you,” he kept his hand out.

“There are Wanted Posters all over town. Just check one of them.”

“I don’t really look at those,” he was a bit embarrassed. It seemed everyone else had a comprehensive knowledge on the Witch Hunts but he kept his nose out of it when he could.

“Emma,” she answered short and sharply.

He tried out the name in his mouth. “It’s normal.”

Emma grimaced. “Consider yourself lucky I’d even tell a Redblood something like that.” She turned back around and started to walk.

“Redblood? Is that some sort of fancy Witch word for a human?” He blinked, lowering his hands. “Hey, how far away do you live?” He hurried after her down the alleyway. He had to go down there anyways technically, it lead back to CCRP.

“Maybe an hour from here? A little bit less?” She put a finger to her lips and her eyes widened. “Oh, they’re coming again. It’s a van from the Guild.”

“You can tell just by listening?” It was another second or two before he could hear the accompanying sirens. “So um, do you want to come with me? I’ve got a car this way and it looks sorta like you can’t walk well,” he offered, bumping his hands together again anxiously.

“You look far too happy about that.” Emma glared at him as she reluctantly began to follow. “Do you know the way to Blackwood forest?”

He nodded, one hand finding its way to her back to hurry her along through the narrow alleyway. “Yeah, you live out there? I didn’t think anyone did.”

“Sort of, And that’s why we’re going there.” 

He was frustrated at himself for taking the risk, especially because everyone would expect him back at work in about ten minutes, but maybe he could make the journey and be back in time. Surely his co workers would cover for him if he was just a little bit late. 

“Is this your car?” Emma gulped as Paul tried to push her in before anyone could see them together. 

“Yeah, is there a problem?” He almost missed the ignition he was so nervous. The Witch could snap at any time, maybe this was just its human facade. 

Blackwood forest was the perfect setting  
for a Witch hideout. It was a good dumping ground too, there wouldn’t be anyone around to witness Paul cooperating with a criminal. The mean, ashy tones of the rocks and the way the trees bent over and curled their branches made the appropriate setting for a Witch’s home. Beyond the crooked branches of the shrubbery stood dark and intimidating pines that reached up towards the sky. The wind made the bare trees dance around, shaking their branches at Paul as if they were laughing at him for trusting a Witch. They had to get out and walk the last couple stretches when the road got too rocky and hard to drive on.

“Wow!” Emma spat as she clambered out of the car. “Do you even have a license! Or are you purposely trying to kill me?” She got as far from the car as she could.

“What? I knew it was a little fast but I’m a very safe driver!” He promised, but his words fell on deaf ears. “Sorry. Do you think they’re still following us?”

“No way, they’re too scared to leave their territory.” There was a hiss of pain that hung to the end of her words. And she gripped at her right leg. “Thanks for your help. It’s whatever. Here’s fine, I’ll get home from here.”

“What’s wrong with your leg?” He asked, hoping that wasn’t too pushy. She was a little funnily dressed, he should’ve realised that from the first time he saw her. She was wearing a long skirt that went down to her ankles like she was trying to cover herself up. It didn’t match her shirt at all.

“That’s not really any of your business,” she pressed, grunting as she tried to stifle the pain. “It’s just those dumb Hunters, they really had to fuck me over, didn’t they?” 

Paul opened his mouth to make another comment and Emma sighed heavily, turning to face the woods “You did me a favour, sir, what was your name again?”

“Paul.”

“Well, thanks for helping me not get shot. Getting shot is my least favourite thing, so I appreciate it. But my other least favourite thing is questions, people following me, getting too far into my personal space, okay?”

“Um, are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” From a young age Paul had it drilled into his head that Witches were bad. If you weren’t strong enough you were supposed to run and hide, there was even a slogan for it in all the ads -halt and hide and wait for Hunters to arrive- Witches were dangerous. Murders, criminals, demand. But, even if he didn’t want to admit it, as much as he was frightened Emma certainly didn’t want to hurt him. She might have been yelling and barking at him like a feral dog for the whole car drive but she looked relatively harmless. 

“Of course I’ll be fine!” She rolled her eyes. “I know this forest like the back of my hand! What do you mean?”

“You just look like your legs hurts, would you like me to help you out?” He suggested sheepishly. Why did he want to stick with her so much? 

“You want to help a Witch?” She put a hand on her hip with a smirk, shifting her weight back to her other leg. “You’re crazy.” Her smirk turned into something slyer and she had a grin that made Paul’s heart race. “Why would a tall and handsome guy like you want to follow a young girl like me out all alone into the woods, huh?”

“Uh, I’m not- I’m not crazy, sorry, I’m not a creep I just! I thought you’d like a hand,” he clapped his palm to his red face, he didn’t know why but he thought he was going to cry. “I thought if it was a long walk and if your leg is hurting I could just- but it’s okay, um, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” 

“Well y’know what?” She turned around, swatting at his chest. “Sure you can come. At least I’ll know you aren’t out reporting me if you’re by my side.”

“Oh!” His whole face was red now, he was sure. “Really? For real?” He skipped after her, “um, thank you! This is really strange, sorry. Um, for starters, this isn’t a trap?”

Emma shrugged. “If you think it’s a trap, you should just leave. You clearly can’t be too scared if you’re following me.”

Paul clicked his tongue. Fair enough. “So why don’t you look like a Witch?”

Emma trod on forward in the lead, passing under the arch of a hanging branch and remaining in a bothered silence until Paul caught up, brushing the leaves out of his way. “What do you think a Witch looks like, Paul?” She asked, posing the question in a less than curious tone. 

Paul’s eyes lowered down to the dirt under his shoes. “Well, they have dark eyes and their skin is all weird, some of them have horns,” he trailed off as they realised Emma was not amused. 

“That’s funny, I’ve never met a Witch with horns, and I’ve met a lot of Witches.” Emma snaked her way through a small copse of trees, almost as if she were trying to lose Paul, still grasping her leg.

“That’s just what Mcnamara says they look like,” he tried to explain. “Like demons.”

Emma let out a deep groan, “Oh, don’t make me regret bringing you here. I don’t like talking about John.” She waved one of her hands out and a flurry of leaves swept from the trees around her, scattering to the ground. The temperature seemed to drop. 

“Um, so you do magic?” He wanted to say something to fill the silence. “Is it scary? Can-can I see?” he was watching the trees close in on him.

“Hah. If you’re a coward. I’m just an Air Witch.” She pushed some low hanging branches out of the way with a breeze of wind from her finger tips. “And I’m not a dog or a circus animal. Magic is very physically draining so I’m not about to give you a show.”

Paul slouched, looking down at his phone. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“We aren’t far now, ten minutes maybe?”

Paul nodded, wondering where it was they were going. “That’s good. Why were you in town today?”

“Well there was a hunt out for my friend, Nora! Mcnamara got her, I hate that stupid Hunter. Sorry to insult your town idol or whatever but-“

“Oh uh, he’s not really- I’m not too take with the guild. I’ve always thought that hunting stuff was a little extreme,” it felt good to admit it. Saying that sort of stuff to anyone would get him singled out. 

They were both quiet for quite a while until Paul had to help her hop over a fallen trunk when her leg wouldn’t let her make the jump. 

The wood was rotting and its dark roots had ripped a chunk of dirt from the ground. Big ants and thick, black centipedes crawled between the ruts of the tree. Moss was growing around the roots and a nest indicated a bird had made its home between the twisted branches.

Emma propped herself up against the trunk once she landed on the other side, panting. “Just a moment,” she held out one finger. “Damn, you know I used to be able to make this trip better.” 

“You don’t come out here much?” Paul picked at the moss growing between the gnarled roots. 

“I do, I just don’t come back this way,” Emma scoffed. “No, not really. I stopped getting out since...” she counted on her fingers. “A while now. Those fucking Hunters got me good a while back,” she patted her leg and Paul wondered what had happened. “The bone shattered really bad.” 

“Oh, how did that go?” It wasn’t like a Witch could just check themself into a hospital. 

“Ah, we had to amputate it,” she stated rather nonchalantly. “Hurt like hell, can’t say I didn’t feel it but I lived, right? We’ve got a healer Witch anyways, this girl called Alice. She’s a Green Witch, a sweetheart.” 

“Damn, man. That’s not fun,” Paul stammered, not sure what else they could say. He kept looking at her skirt, trying to make out the shapes below the heavy fabric.

Emma snorted. “Yeah, no. It’s not.” She glanced at Paul out of the corner of her eye, a smile she had been attempting to conceal shining through for a moment. She dusted off her skirt and shrugged. “You can blame that on John.”

“Mcnamara?” He hovered a hand over her thigh, was there just no leg there? How was she walking?

“Do you know any other evil dictators? Yeah, John Mcnamara. The town loves him that’s for sure, but clearly I’m a big enough threat to warrant being fucking shot at three times, hah, right?” She grabbed his hand and placed it down on her leg. It felt like there was something wooden under there. “Look,” she grabbed a handful and yanked it up to her thigh. “Alice grew it for me too.” It was two thick branches entwined together to form the messy shape of a leg bone. “It’s not really for running, but it helps me stand. It just sucks, I used to be really into shit like rock climbing and hiking, now I’m just lucky if I can walk down the fucking road,” she laughed, but Paul figured it was some sort of way to cope. 

Paul didn’t add anything to the conversation. He let her ramble on as they stood back up, nodding every now and then as if he understood. He stared down at the path below them as they listened. It was well-tread but concealed by an overgrowth of the surrounding plants. Right now, very little made sense and until things did it was easier not to form an opinion. 

He wondered why he was letting a Witch lead him out into the middle of nowhere, especially considering he didn’t know what was even going on. Maybe it was the fact that Witches seemed to not pose any real threat, Emma certainly wasn’t what he imagined a Witch to look like. It had been a long time since he had the opportunity to make a new friend outside of work and Emma was great at carrying out conversations which was even better considering how little Paul had to offer. And, if he had to admit, she as outstandingly beautiful. 

“-And so that’s why I’ve got to wear this stupid skirt every time I go into town. Paul? What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m with you on that.” He didn’t have a single clue what she was talking about, but turned back to look at her. 

“You weren’t listening,” she sighed. “That’s okay. Whatever. I thought you’d like to know where I was taking you.”

Paul held a finger to his mouth to teethe on. “I’m curious, I’m sorry. It’s all just really new to me. I’ve never been to the woods before.” It was a little bit stifling to move through in his suit. It would need to get cleaned tonight. “Where are we going?”

“The coven,” she answered. “It’s where some of us live I suppose. Those of us who can’t find a way to settle down in town.” 

“Why don’t you live in town?” He asked, “isn’t that easier than out here?” He was becoming increasingly bothered with all the flies buzzing around. 

“Hah, right next to Mcnamara? I don’t think so. Look, it’s nothing grand or fancy, but we’re safe here and that’s all that matters.” She stopped to point up ahead.  
“There’s the village, do you see it?”

Paul’s eyes scanned the surroundings. “I don’t.”

“It’s because you’re not a Witch. There’s a glamour surrounding it, you can’t see.” 

Paul focused harder as the sun dipped below the tree line. No light reached through the hanging leaves of the soldier pines that guarded the secret village. 

“Look,” Emma snatched up his wrist and she guided his hand over the curve of the wall of ferns up ahead. “Do you see where they dip? That’s the entrance. And you see how there are no clouds in the sky above?”

The shape was becoming more apparent to him now, there was something off about what they were staring at. “So it’s secret?”

“‘Hidden’ is more appropriate.” She held a finger to her lips as they came closer to the fern wall and gripped his wrist tighter. “Remember, you have to be quiet. Don’t talk to anyone unless they talk to you. Don’t eat anything and don’t tell anyone you’re a redblood if they don’t figure it out first.” She gave Paul a disapproving look. “You could’ve worn anything else and it’d be less redblood than this. Are you a capitalist or some shit?” She tugged at the lapels of his suit. “Ugh. Take that off. You can wear my cloak once we get to my place.” 

He flushed as she stood up on the tips of her toes to pull his suit coat off. She didn’t look like she knew what to do with it and hurried over to drape it over some branches outside. He really hoped he wouldn’t forget to pick it up. 

“Gods, you are remarkably tidy, you know that?” She wiped her hands over her own face. “You’re going to stand out, but it’s better at least.” 

“Are there other Witches here? No one’s gonna kill me will they?”

Her face scrunched up. “Probably not, just don’t go being weird.” She grabbed Paul’s hand this time. “Just stick with me.” She tried to keep her voice down but fear shivered through. “I’ll make sure you’re safe but I’m begging - don’t do anything dumb.” She stared at him until he nodded. “Good.” She gave his outfit one last look before holding out a hand to part the ferns. 

Tiny sticks scraped at his skin as Emma pulled him through a small gap in the greenery. 

It was hard to believe something like this was hidden from the public. It was exactly as Emma had said, nothing impressive or shiny, but it was like something from a movie.

A small, destitute village lay out in front of them, silhouetted in the moonlight. A collection of dark rubble and rocks were pushed together to form a pillar in the middle, eating up the space of an already small clearing and casting an eerie shadow onto the ground. There were small hovels and dens burrowed into the hillside and tiny platforms throughout the trees. Miserable, mud shacks and cottages were dotted around, leaning to one side or another, none built upright and none bigger than a shed. 

The general noise of the village quietened down and all eyes turned to face them.

The more Paul looked, the more Witches he saw - hidden in doorways and behind logs and bushes. Half-dressed, dark shapes with no shoes lurked in the shadows, covered head to toe in mud and ashes and dust and vanishing into the night.

Paul began to sweat. 

Only one woman seemed to have the guts to approach. A tall and muscled woman with dark, curly hair. She stepped forward, giving her attention to Emma before eventually eyeing Paul. “What’s this story?” Her voice was loud and every other worried mumble from the onlookers hushed. She was nearly twice Emma’s size and even though she was eye to eye with Paul she was still somehow staring down at him with an unimpressed expression. She held a twisted, wooden staff in her hand that was embedded with jewels and small curlings of wire. The staff alone went up to their neck. 

“Someone, uh, this is a redblood,” she answered slowly. “He held me escape the Hunters, and he wanted to make sure I got back to the coven safely. My leg is hurting again. I’ve got to see Alice,” she shifted her balance from foot to foot.

“Well this is very interesting,” the girl nodded. “And how do we know you’re going to leave here and not go straight to Mcnamara?”

Paul opened his mouth to speak but Emma did instead. “I think he’s a good guy,” she leaned into the taller girl. “You want to check him out?” She gave the side of her leg a small pat. “I’ve got to get to Alice.” Her posture worsened. “Oh, and I’ve brought some news.”

She tilted her staff in the direction of a small cottage. “Go ahead.”

Emma nodded. “Is she free?”

“Melissa is in with her, but that’s nothing new. You go see her, I’ve got some chatting to do with your little friend here.”  
Her arm looped around his neck in a subtle way of keeping them from attempting escape. 

Emma swallowed and gave a subtle wave goodbye as she snuck off into the darkness.

As she left, the tall girl slipped the edge of her staff up against Paul’s neck and chuckled. “I have lots of trust in Emma,” she declared. “So let’s see what you’re about.” She walked with a straight back and a puffed out chest, rhythm flowing through her wide stance and down into her steps despite the dark circles under her eyes. She would’ve only been a couple years younger than Mcnamara at most. “What’s your name, kid?” She ushered Paul down to a damp, fallen log, sitting down. “I’m the high priestess here. Claire, but you call me Schaeffer okay?” She shook his hand a little too roughly. 

Paul surveyed the landscape again as Schaeffer gestured to it.

A scrawny child was playing with sticks near the fern wall and caught Paul’s eye. He got up, his knees stained with dirt, and bolted off. 

“Did I scare him?” Paul frowned.

“You’re a Redblood. What do you think?” She kept a close eye on the child as they ran off until they were inside. “That’s Tim. He lost his mother to the Hunters. Poor kid.” She clicked her tongue and stared for a moment. “The poor boy has been heartbroken. He wanted to be a Green Witch just like his mother, but turns out he’s a water Witch.” She tapped a foot on the floor, something was looking to trouble her greatly. “What did you say your name was?” 

“Paul Matthews,” he answered quietly.

“And you met Emma during the hunt?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I helped her escape.” He was sure that would earn them some trust points. 

Schaeffer’s head dropped as she nodded and her smile relaxed. “Yes, that’s very good.” She leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper, her solemn eyes looked out at the Witches creeping around the clearing. “Witches aren’t monsters,” she exhaled loudly. She drew a sigil in the dirt with the end of her staff. It was barely visible in the night. “I’d like to find someone in their right mind who could take a look at any of us and deem it necessary to kill.”

“Yeah,” Paul agreed, watching her draw with the end of the staff instead of making eye contact. “I don’t think Witches are murderers or anything. They’re just…” They couldn’t push the words out with Schaeffer looking at them. 

“Monsters?” She suggested almost casually as if she was tricking the answer out of him. 

“That’s not it!” He tripped over his words in a race to get them out and forced himself to look up at Schaeffer. “I don’t think there’s any need to report them or any sort of ‘public duty.’ I don’t think it would benefit anyone. I mean, who are you guys hurting, right?” There was a funny feeling in his chest, a pricking and jabbing sensation. He braces himself just saying that.

Schaeffer drew her black cloak off her shoulders as she sat back, placing it over her lap. “That’s good to know, Matthews.”  
She stood up, throwing her cloak back over her shoulders. “Now. You and I’ll go find Emma, how about that?” She pointed at the rundown shack across the clearing. It had no door but was almost completely hidden by the ferns and lichen growing off the roof. “We aren’t bad people. We don’t kill,” she stressed as they walked. “But we don’t take strangers coming to our Coven very lightly. This is a place for us to be safe, and it can be frightening to see a redblood here.” 

“Figured,” Paul tucked his hands under his arms. 

Schaeffer brushed aside the leaves in front of the shack and let Paul inside.

It was poorly lit and plants took up most of the walking room. The floor was made of dirt and the hallway was open to something akin to a kitchen. The seats were made of tree stumps and there was only a rock for a table. 

He was worried about what might be lurking in the darkness, maybe this was where they got him. 

“Alice,” Schaeffer addressed the darkness. “Busy evening?” She rubbed her hands together and a small, deep blue glow emanated from her palms, growing until it lit up the whole room. 

He noticed Emma’s face first, but the second girl was pushed further into the darkness. Her long, brown hair was tangled and messy and had lost its shine. Even her face seemed a little sunken in. 

“Uh, Paul, this is my Alice,” Emma quickly introduced them. “And Alice, this is Paul.”

Alice dipped her head with a shy smile and rose from her chair. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she had a quiet voice. She wore a dirty, white cloak that fell down to her knees and covered her neck as if she were trying to hide herself. Her skin was covered in ash and wrapped tightly around her bones. “Um, has Emma told you the news?” 

“No?” Schaeffer leant against the frame of the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Mcnamara caught Nora today,” Emma reported, bowing her head somberly in respect.

There was a break in Schaeffer’s hard expression. “Captured?”

“Twelve days until her execution,” Alice echoed with a voice as gentle as falling snow. Her delicate fingers traced lines on the tree stump table and her eyes grew distant in thought. 

“But I’ll come up with a plan,” Emma assured them all. “I’ve already started working around the Guild’s new security, I can work something out.” 

Schaeffer grunted and pressed her finger tips to her forehead. “I’ll organise a meeting for the Coven right now. We can do something about this, Nora will be fine,” she moved outside with a haste that betrayed the calm voice she was trying to use.

“I’ll help gather everyone!” Alice offered. “Emma, could you watch Melissa please?” She scampered out after her. 

“Hey, so-” Paul tried to grab Emma’s attention, but her eyes were fixed on a small shred of fabric pinned to the walls.

“She’s sick,” she sounded hopeless, her voice was quiet and pathetic as if she had just remembered something awful. “The girl Alice was talking about.” She pulled back the curtain and hot air poured out from a small hole in the wall. “Let me show you.”

“Oh, uh, alright!” Paul nodded, although he didn’t think he had much of a choice.

Emma had to crouch down to move through the small doorway and Paul had to get on his knees and crawl. 

There was an even smaller room on the other side, it looked as if it could barely hold more than three people. A mattress lay on the floor covered by a thick, stained blanket and the room was sweltering. The crawlspace was the only source of ventilation. 

“This is Melissa,” Emma introduced them to the shape under the mattress. Her lips turned to rest in a frown as she tentatively pulled the blanket back, scared of what she might see underneath.

A small girl with messy, ungroomed hair lay still on the bed. She looked to be a child but by the roughness of her skin Paul thought she must’ve been older. Her skin was covered in a sickly sweat and her expression was by no means peaceful.

“Wow.” He wiped the sweat from the girl’s forehead with his sleeve and placed his fingers on her pulse, surprised to find one. When he touched her, he was shocked at the texture of her skin. It was almost scale-y. “She’s not looking very well.”

“You think I didn’t know that?” She breathed in sharply to stop herself yelling. “Alice is doing her best but we don’t know how to make her better.”

Paul hummed lowly, leaning forward curiously. He pinched the girl’s shoulder, but she barely had the energy to react, only her fingers twitched. “She’s not in a coma at least.”

“What are you doing?” Emma leant in, trying to see past Paul. “She isn’t in a coma. She’s passed out. She does that all the time.” Her eyes were filled with sympathy. She crossed her legs and shifted around uncomfortably, playing with her skirt to spread it out evenly around her. “I haven’t seen it happen myself. It’s like she can’t get a grip on her magic and it just drains her so much until she collapses. It’s been like this for two years and she’s barely hanging on anymore.” She rested a concerned hand at the foot of the mattress. 

Melissa’s lip twitched and she shifted like she was trying to roll onto her side but couldn’t carry through.

“Alice must be pretty good to keep her alive this long. In the hospital they would’ve just-” he didn’t finish the sentence. “Yeah, she’s really good.”

Emma nodded. “You’d be surprised! She’s incredible! She’s a walking miracle, she can cure just about anything.” Her words turned into a tired laugh. “Well, almost anything” her tone dried up again. “Is it some human thing? Do you know what is is?”

Paul scanned Melissa’s face but took too long to answer.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She smoothed out the creases in her skirt. “If something happens to Alice, we’ll lose her too, and we’re losing Witches so fast these days.”

Light from the main room trickled in as the curtain was brushed aside again. “Oh, I shouldn’t have left her.” Alice crawled through the archway. “Sir, out please.”

Emma was quick to her feet. “Yeah, lets go. She knows what she’s doing more than we do.” 

Paul gave a rushed nod and took the hint, ducking down to crawl through the frame after her. 

“Her magic is on the blink,” Emma explained. “It’s pretty dangerous to have a Fire Witch out of control, right?” 

“Sorry, a Fire Witch?” Paul exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me that! Are you saying she sets stuff on fire?” He pulled at his collar because he couldn’t breathe. 

Emma snorted. “No. She was way too tired to do any magic back there. She’s harmless if you keep your distance,” she crossed her arms. “What are you scared of?”

“Doesn’t that scare you?” His heart raced at the thought alone. He wanted her to be more concerned. 

“You’re freaking out. It’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ve got magic, we can deal with it,” she tilted her head out the hole in the wall. “Schaeffer’s ready to start,” Emma trailed off as her voice cracked. 

Paul only caught sight of the Witches congregating at the base of the rock pile outside when she pointed them out. They all blended perfectly into the night.

“Remember not to talk to anyone,” she grabbed his wrist and guided him outside, waiting on the outskirts of the circle.

Witches crowded around them from all sides, huddling and mumbling under their breaths as they rubbed their hands together in the cold.

He could feel every set of eyes that glanced at him and dipped his head as he was burned up by their stares.

Emma failed to suppress a laugh. “You stand out too much. Get some dirt on your face or something man. This suit looks more expensive than everything here combined!” She pulled at his collar, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. 

“Hey!” He batted her hand away, flustered. “You’re the one who teased me about following you but all you’ve done since I’ve gotten here is undress me.” 

She chuckled, giving a sly ear to ear smile, but her hands quickly withdrew when Schaeffer held up her staff.

The crowd fell to a complete silence and Paul could hear lambs somewhere bleating in the distance.

“Nora has been caught,” Schaeffer was very direct. She must have delivered this announcement so many times.

The silence grew uneasy and each Witch turned to look at their neighbour. 

“We already have a plan in place,” she continued. “And we’ll do what we can to free her.” 

That did not stop the nervous chatter - if anything it made it worse.

Schaeffer clapped the bottom of her staff to the rock and everyone shut their mouths. “Any concerns?”

Of course there were concerns. It was present in the eyes of every Witch and yet no one said a word.

Then Paul heard a whimpering. It was from a Witch in front of them, her eyes were puffy and red as if she had already been crying. Her knees were shaking as she spoke up, “Nora was captured?” She sobbed.

Schaeffer rose her staff above her head in a smooth motion and every Witch scattered in their own directions, heading back to their shacks and tents. She scaled down the rockpile to console the Witch.

“Uh oh. Come on, let’s give them some privacy.” She tugged on Paul’s arm. “Let’s go, city boy. You think you can find your own way home? I’ve got some planning to get started on, thanks for helping me here.”

Paul nodded frantically. He just wished he had more to say to her. He was actually fairly sure he was in love with her already, in love with her and all of this. A hidden village, a secret she was entrusting him to keep. He may have only known Emma for a handful of hours, but he would take this secret to the grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 will maybe be a thing?? We don’t know


End file.
